


Centerfold

by shortystylee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/pseuds/shortystylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margaery finds someone from her past in the place she'd least expect it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based a little bit on Centerfold, by J Geils Band.
> 
> High school Sansa & Margaery are 16 and 17; current time is 8 years later.
> 
> Underage warning clicked simply because they're both under 18.

 

It was happening again.

 

Not three minutes earlier, Margaery had been happy as a clam, practically floating down the sidewalk on her way to see her girlfriend. _And now? Now I’m getting dumped_.

 

“I _am_ free tonight,” she said, then paused to push a hand back through her hair. “But I think it’s best if we stop seeing each other.”

 

_Here it comes._

 

“It’s just, you’re moving a bit fast. I like you, Mags, I really do. This is all just too much for me though, I’m not ready for it.”

 

All she could do is nod, say some ‘it was nice to get to know you’ formalities, and turn and leave the little café before too many customers realized what had just happened. Margaery had realized the moment she saw Jeyne’s expression when she asked if she was free that night. She’d have to call her grandmother yet again and tell her about another failed romance, stopped before it really got started. All her older siblings were happy, and then there was her – the youngest, unlucky in love Margaery “can’t get past the third date” Tyrell. When it happens as often as it did, she’d long stopped getting sad or angry about it. Disappointed, yes, that feeling was definitely still there.

 

When she arrived back at her car in the parking garage, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag, changed it over to the Bluetooth and called up the person who was first in her favorites list as she made her way out of the garage.

 

“Gendry?”

 

“Hey, Mags, what’s up? You and Jeyne gonna end up joining Arry and I on the couch tonight for Braveheart? I’m sure you could impress her with your William Wallace impression.”

 

“Not exactly…”

 

“Don’t tell me she…” There was a sigh and a slightly annoyed tone in his voice, but she knew it wasn’t aimed at anything she’d done.

 

“Yep, happened again. So if you don’t mind, I’ll need one of your patented break-up kits tonight.”

 

“You got it. Any preferences?”

 

XxXxX

 

Gendry listened as his roommate rattled off a couple types of ice cream, the store-brand margarita mix she claimed was the best, and Cool Ranch Doritos. Hanging up the phone, he looked over to where Arya, his new girlfriend of only about a month, sat on the couch.

 

“Hey, Ar?”

 

“Yea? Was that your roommate?”

 

“Yea, it was. You mind running down to the bodega at the corner and picking up some things for Mags? She got dumped again today apparently.”

 

“Wait, wait. I thought Miranda broke up with her two weeks ago?”

 

“Miranda did break up with her two weeks ago. This was a new one, a Jeyne something-er-other.” He paused for a second and shrugged his shoulders, as Arya got up from the couch and gathered her wallet and messenger bag. Practically every other girl their age was named Jeyne. “I dunno, all that matters is that ever since I’ve known her, each time she gets dumped I make her up a “get over that girl” kit. I can text you what to get. Oh, and pick up something silly. That’s her favorite.”

 

XxXxX

 

“I’m back,” Arya yelled, kicking the door shut with her boots.

 

“Get everything?” he asked, and she replied that she did. “What’d you get for the silly gift? I got her a pen shaped like a dolphin that made these noises and…”

 

He stopped, watching as Arya pulled a magazine wrapped in plastic out of the paper bag and slid it across his kitchen table to him.

 

“You… you got her a nudie mag?”

 

“Yea, so? I mean, she does like girls, right? Unless I _really_ haven’t been paying attention. She better like it too, I got quite the look when I had to ask the old dude at the bodega for Tits McGee Monthly, or whatever the shit this excellent photojournalistic endeavor is called.”

 

XxXxX

 

It was after the pint of ice cream was finished, after she’d watched all her favorite sad episodes of The L Word, and surprisingly only cried a little bit when Shane leaves Carmen at the altar… that stone cold bitch.

 

Having had enough L Word reruns, she picked up the remote and started to flick through Netflix, but there was nothing she was in the mood for tonight. From the corner of her eye she noticed the magazine she’d thrown down on the nightstand in a huff earlier.

 

She’d laughed when she saw it sitting on her bedspread next to the bag of Doritos, and guessed that Gendry had sent Arya to the store instead. She’d only been dating Gendry for a few weeks, but Margaery has learned enough about her personality in that short period of time to know that this was something she’d find hilarious.

 

_Wild Westeros… gods, could they have picked a worse name?_ She leaned over and grabbed it, turning it over to glance at the front and back covers. “Typical,” she mumbled aloud to herself. Ads for call girls on the back, _oh excuse me, high class escorts for social and business purposes only_ , and a classy spread eagle shot on the front. _Could they be any clearer that it’s targeted towards straight men?_ She thumbed through the first couple pages. _Won’t hurt to take a look though? Getting off can’t make things worse, right?_

 

Flip, flip, flip. _Nope_.

 

Flip, flip. _Yep, the gods definitely didn’t make those tits._

 

Flip, flip, flip. _Ya know, for a magazine for hetero dudes there sure are a ton of dicks._

 

Flip, flip, flip. _Oh, yippee, centerfold time._

 

“…holy shit.”

 

She shook her head, and then focused, squinting her eyes at the woman on the page in front of her. It had to be her. She looked a bit older, but shit, it was almost ten years ago.

 

Long auburn hair, piercing eyes, and a look on her face like she’s going to do something and you’re going to love it. Her skin was flawless, and they’d obviously air-brushed out the freckles that were scattered around her breasts. She’d bet that she’d been instructed not to get a full wax, that way there was no question about whether the carpet matched the drapes.

 

Her face had lost a bit of its baby fat and her teeth were braces free, but it was definitely her.

 

_Sansa fucking Stark_.

 

XxXxX

11th grade, junior year. Home room, first hour, first day back to school after summer vacation.

 

She’d been running late, and flung herself into the only open chair she saw, at the very back of the classroom, as the contents of her backpack scattered across the grey industrial carpet under the desk. The girl next to her jumped down out of her seat to help, and when Margaery looked up to thank her, she lost all her words. It was everything, from her ice blue eyes, to auburn hair so long it still fell to her shoulders despite the high ponytail, and the way her nose scrunched up a bit when she smiled widely, showing off her only discernible fault: a mouthful of braces. They were cute in a dorky way, in a way that, amongst the other perfections made it clear to Margaery that this wasn’t a hallucination.

 

Dream girl cornered her after class, as she knelt down picking up books off the bottom shelf of her locker.

 

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t that big of a mess,” she said. “Anyways, I’m Sansa Stark.”

 

Margaery turned and looked up, greeted with the image of navy blue knee socks, long legs, and a plaid skirt that she knew she’d be thinking about later that evening. There were Fallout Boy and Hello Kitty stickers on the binder she carried. _Sugar, we’re going down swinging_. She took the hand that Sansa offered and stood up, smoothing out her skirt with her free hand. “Margaery Tyrell, but everyone calls me Maggy.”

 

Later that day, they’d find out they had the same gym class. Margaery almost died when she walked into the locker room to change and found Sansa wearing only her skirt and demure white bra. Sansa smiled at her and remarked about how awesome it was that they had a class together, while Margaery just nodded her agreement and reminded herself to chill the fuck out.

 

A week or two later, things started to change. Escalate, bit by bit. It was innocent, really, at first. Sansa had been a little touchy-feely from the start, not that Margaery minded. She’d thread their arms as they walked down the hallways, but no one thought a thing, girls are just like that. It was homeroom one day and their hands brushed under the table they shared. They were probably passing notes to each other, like usual. Margaery hurriedly tried to pull away but Sansa grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and flashing a braces-filled smile at her. She can remember all of it – the softness of Sansa’s hands, the delicate opal ring she wore on her pointer finger, and the way that her own heart was threatening to beat straight out of her chest. This felt different than holding hands in the hallway, under the table at the back of the classroom was hidden from sight. It felt different, and Margaery knew it was different when she felt Sansa’s thumb moving slowly across the back of her hand.

 

Holding hands under the desk soon became their new normal, with even Margaery initiating it. They started to hang out after school. Everything new was Sansa, she was a year younger but seemed to know what she was doing and Margaery had no clue. They didn’t talk about what this was, and she didn’t care if this was just some curiosity of Sansa’s, she’d let her do anything.

 

So it didn’t surprise her when Sansa joined her in the same dressing room at the Gap. It only surprised her a little when Margaery stood directly in front of her, hands taking a hold of the hem of her school sweater, pulling it smoothly over Margaery’s head, hands grazing the sides of breasts as she pulled upwards. _She’s just helpful, yea, that’s it, not sexual at all_ , she told herself, but Sansa was right there, looking down at her. She knew she noticed Margaery’s suddenly labored breath, and there was no missing her nipples, standing at attention through the thin bra she wore. Sansa eyes flicked from her eyes to her nipples and back, then she smiled, pulling her own sweater off, and it was Margaery’s chance to try and covertly admire Sansa’s breasts, sadly covered by the very lacy, and rather adult, bra.

 

“Come on, silly girl, these sweaters won’t try themselves on,” Sansa joked, and it was back to reality while they tried on the armfuls of potential new tops they’d carried to the dressing room.

 

Margaery had on an emerald green cable knit sweater, the scoop neckline going lower than she’d anticipated when she saw it on the mannequin earlier. “Sans, what do you think of this one?” she asked. Sansa turned from the mirror where she’d been fussing with her own top, and her mouth dropped open.

“Gosh, Mags, it looks incredible. This color goes amazing with your hair.”

 

“It’s just plain old brown hair,” she replied, shrugging.

 

Sansa rolled her eyes and took a step forward, and then another. _Forward. Sansa was always much more forward_. “This,” she said, raising her right hand to run her finger through Margaery’s hair, “is not plain old brown hair. It’s chestnut, and it’s gorgeous.” She brought her hand around to the nape of her neck, massaging in gentle circles, and Margaery’s couldn’t help it, she pushed farther into Sansa’s hand to urge her on, closing her eyes and sighing audibly.

 

And then she stopped. “Maggy?”

 

She looked up at Sansa through hooded eyes and pieces of hair that had gotten mussed from taking off her sweater. “Y-Yes?”

 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” she breathed, and just as soon as she said it she was pulling Maggy’s lips to hers.

 

_Sweet mother of gods_.

 

It was Sansa’s hand still at the nape of her neck, and both of Margaery’s grasping Sansa’s hips, shyly deciding to find the warm skin under her sweater after a moment. It was how she’d wondered what it was like to kiss someone with braces, and how she tasted Cherry Coke slushie when her tongue finally met Sansa’s. It was how she thanked the gods for the thin, horrible excuse for a bra she’d worn, the friction it created with her chest pressed against Sansa’s, the moans that escaped her mouth, and the feeling of Sansa smiling against her lips when she heard it. It was how she knew she’d never be able to go into another dressing room at the Gap without a stupid smile on her face.

 

Kissing each other senseless soon became their new normal, and they quickly moved away from shopping mall dressing rooms to any venue they could be alone in. An empty movie theater, the stairwell in B-Wing after 8th hour but before their volleyball practice, the backseat of Margaery’s father’s BMW the day after she got her license.

 

Things still escalated, bit by bit. It was somewhere around December, and they’d stayed late after volleyball practice to run a few more drills. Once they were done, Margaery had gone back to the locker room to shower first, and Sansa stayed in the gym to put some things away.

 

So when Margaery was showering and heard footsteps in the locker room, she didn’t think anything of it. She was facing the inside of the shower stall, the kind that forms a circle, trying to rinse the sweat smell out of her hair before she headed home. A locker closed behind her and she turned around to see Sansa sitting on a bench, naked save for a towel wrapped around her.

 

“You don’t mind sharing, do you?” she asked, standing up once Margaery noticed her.

 

_What? Please, how am I not dreaming right now?_

 

“I mean, um, no… but there’s plenty of other open showers… you could have a different one if you wanted.” she replied. _What in the seven hells are you saying, Margaery?_

 

Sansa took a step forward, and then another. _Forward. Sansa was always much more forward_. When she was just outside of the spray, she undid the little knot at the top of her towel and hung it from the hook. They’d changed for volleyball and gym class more times than she could count by now, so they’d seen each other naked plenty of times. Margaery would be lying if she said she didn’t have Sansa committed to memory.

 

But this was different. There was no one else there. Margaery was sure the coach was around somewhere, but probably still in her office. It was them, and only them, in the lockers.

 

“I don’t want a different shower,” Sansa replied, her voice low, and she stepped under the spray of hot water. She caught Maggy’s eyes, then looked slowly, deliberately, down her body. “Do you want me, Maggy?”

 

_Dear gods, yes_ , she thought, but only managed to nod her head quickly up and down.

 

“Good,” Sansa replied. She took two small steps, forcing Margaery to take one backwards, and her back now touched the cold metal wall separately their shower stall from the next. She kept her eyes on Margaery’s, and brought her left hand to her waist, slowly dragging her fingers up her torso until she was able to run them along the underside of her right breast, and watched as Maggy’s eyes fluttered closed and her mouth opened when she brushed her thumb over her nipple.

 

Sansa ducked down, leaving wet kisses along Margaery’s neck, and continued making slow circles on her breast. She smiled when she felt Margaery’s hands finally reach out to her, landing near her hipbones. “What do you want me to do to you, Margaery?” Sansa asked, whispering low into her ear and feeling very pleased with the shudder she felt.

 

“Just…” she started, a bit embarrassed, stumbling over her words. _Oh, fuck it_. “I want you to make me feel good.”

 

Sansa stilled for a second, then moved a few inches away, but left one hand on Margaery’s waist, the other pressed into the metal wall. “And you think I can do that?” she asked.

 

“I hope so,” Margaery replied as she kept her eyes on Sansa’s. _There, there’s a little bit of confidence._

 

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Sansa said, shaking her head, “…you have _no idea_.” A devilish smile played across her face and she dropped to her knees.

 

XxXxX

 

It was all well and good to linger in memory lane for a while, remembering what it was like when she was a little bit younger, a lot meeker when it came to pretty girls, and allowed herself to get shown the ropes by someone else. But she started to get suspicious. _This is the first time I’ve gotten porn in my break-up kit, and it just so happens that I know one of the models?_ She pushed herself up and off the bed, grabbed the magazine, and headed out to the living room.

 

“Gendry, you know I’m thankful for the porn and all, but you didn’t look at this first did you?”

 

“No, it was still in the plastic, wasn’t it?” he asked. He grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “What’s wrong? Not your type? Too tasteful?”

 

She shook her head. “That’s not, um… not quite the problem. You guys seriously didn’t mess with this? The centerfold?” She sat down in the recliner across from the couch, the magazine still tight in her fist.

 

“No, Mags,” Arya replied. “I bought it. It was totally sealed for freshness. Only the best for you.”

 

Margaery still didn’t look satisfied at the answer, and Gendry noticed. “Come on, then. Tell us what’s up.”

 

“You’ll never believe me, but I know this girl. The centerfold. Or I _knew_ her… shit, like eight years ago.”

 

“In high school?” Gendry asked, suddenly interested. “Let me see that.”

 

Margaery tossed the magazine over to him, but Arya quickly crawled across Gendry’s lap and caught it before he had a chance. She opened it, rifling through the pages quickly before landing on the centerfold.

 

“Sweet fucking mother…” she said immediately, then flipped the magazine over and slammed it down on her lap.

 

“Oh, come on, Arry, surely you’ve seen stuff like that before.”

 

“It’s not that,” she started. She grabbed the magazine back up and flipped it over to show them both, pointing at the redhead who was sprawled out across the sand, arching her back to push her chest high into the air. “This, is my sister.”

 

“Your sister? But how could you know I knew her?”

 

“No, Mags, I had no clue she was in this issue. I just picked the magazine with the raunchiest cover, I swear to gods. I knew she did this kinda thing, trying to help pay for med school and stuff, but it’s not exactly great sister-sister conversation. ‘Hey, sis, how was today’s photo shoot? Any cool beaver shots this time around?’”

 

Gendry had that look on his face that Margaery recognized, the one that meant he was trying to put all the puzzle pieces together, but it wasn’t going as planned. “But, wait, Arya. You’re from Winterfell. Why would your sister go to private school in Kings Landing for a year?”

 

“My dad got transferred down here for work for a year. I stayed at home but Sansa practically begged. She’d wanted to be glamorous and live in the city,” she explained. “You want proof?”

 

She picked up her cell phone from the table and pulled up a picture from Sansa’s first day at med school. It was her, their cousin Jon, and Sansa in her white coat standing outside of the Baelor statue at Kings Landing Medical College. She passed her phone to Margaery.

 

“Well, shit. That’s her…. And that’s you.”

 

“Yep. So, when you say you _knew_ her… are we talking like you did your chem homework together or…?” Arya asked, and then immediately regretted it.

 

Margaery looked around the room at no one, blushing furiously.

 

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen her blush like that over anything,” Gendry said.

 

“Wait, so… ugh, Mags, you totally fucked my sister, didn’t you?

 

“She played a significant role in my sexual awakening, that’s all I’ll say.” Margaery stood up and moved over to the couch, right between Arya and Gendry. She pulled a blanket of the back and wrapped it around herself.

 

“And then?”

 

“And then one Monday in March she wasn’t in homeroom,” she explained. “I asked, but the teacher said all the office would tell her was that they’d moved.”

 

“I remember that. Dad’s business deal with the Baratheon’s fell through suddenly and they had to rush home. He lost a shit ton of money in that. It’s probably why I’m working at the record store and Sansa poses for these magazines. Not enough money for a lot of things after that happened.”

 

“So that’s it? You haven’t talked to her since then?” Gendry asked.

 

“Well, no, I haven’t. She just up and disappeared. What was I supposed to do? I tried finding her on Facebook a few years ago, but no luck.”

They were all silent for a moment, until Arya spoke. “What the shit are we waiting for? This is my sister after all. Today’s your lucky day, Mags. Don’t ever say I never did anything for you.”

 

Arya unlocked her phone, tapped around a few times, and put it up to her ear.

 

“Hey, Sans… no, nothing is wrong… yes, I know it’s been a while, …yes, I should call more often… but, are you in the city this weekend? …oh, _you are_? Well, I’ve got someone who’d love to meet you.”

 

Arya winked at Margaery, and watched the smile grow on her face.


	2. Teenage Dream

Sansa leaned over when her cell phone started buzzing on the side table. It was the first interruption she’d had in hours, during her self-imposed Saturday evening study session. The previous interruptions had been the doorbell when her Meereenese takeout was delivered, and then when Netflix rudely popped up and asked her if she was _still_ watching Glee. _Who the hells is calling at this time of night?_ She scrunched her brow when she saw it was her sister. Her sister who hadn’t called in weeks. _Oh crap, I hope everything is okay_. She quickly paused the television and answered.

 

“Arya?”

 

“Hey, Sans…”

 

“Arya, is something wrong?”

 

“No, nothing is wrong…”

 

“Well, it’s certainly been a while.” Holding her phone between her ear and shoulder, she moved her laptop to the side table and propped her feet up on the ottoman in front of her.

 

“Yes, I know it’s been a while.”

 

“Maybe if you called me more often…”

 

“…yes, I should call more often… but, are you in the city this weekend?”

 

“I am.” _Seeing as my residency is in the city…_

 

“Oh, you are? Well, I’ve got someone who’d love to meet you.”

 

Sansa sighed, partly from relief, partly from annoyance. “Someone to meet me? Little sister, I don’t need you going matchmaker on me. Mom is still trying to introduce me to new people.”

 

“And by people, you mean men?”

 

“Yep. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had awkward coffee at the Wintertown mall with some new man-child she’d found for me.”

 

“Good ol’ mom. Well, Sans, this person isn’t a guy, and technically they’re not new either. This is a blast from the past, so to speak. A teenage dream, if you will.”

 

“Now this sounds intriguing. When do I meet Miss Mystery?” If she’d learned one thing from Arya over the years, it was that she usually knew how to have a good time, and it was almost always better to play along. _Almost_.

 

“Free tomorrow? I hear that Miss Mystery will be having brunch at Stella’s on Griswold Street at 10:30am.”

 

XxXxX

 

Sansa found the restaurant easily even though she’d never been there before. With all the loans she’d had to take out for med school, she didn’t make nearly enough money at the odd jobs she picked up to afford regular brunches at places like this. _Just this once won’t hurt though_. There were a few groups milling around outside waiting for tables and more people sitting on benches inside. Sansa assumed that Arya had made a reservation; at least, she hoped she had.

 

The hostess greeted her promptly when she stopped in front of the counter. She was surprisingly not frazzled by the waiting crowd, but Sansa figured that with working at a place like this, she must be used to it by now. “Good morning, welcome to Stella’s. Do you have a reservation?”

 

“Yes, um, it might be under Sansa, or Stark.”

 

The hostess looked over the list and shook her head. “Sorry. Could it be under a different name?”

 

 _Shit, this is embarrassing_. “There isn’t a Miss Mystery on that list, is there?”

 

“There is,” she answered, completely unfazed by the name on the reservation. “Your other guest just arrived a moment ago. Right this way.”

 

She followed the hostess around the front counter, ignoring the rude stares of a few guests without reservations, and then she wove her way behind her through the dining room to a corner table. The hostess probably said something, maybe along the lines of “That’s your table in the corner” or “Enjoy your meal,” but Sansa heard nothing but those Kill Bill sirens going off in her head as she noticed who was sat at the table.

 

_Teenage dream was right._

 

Chestnut brown hair, still wavy, but shorter than before, just barely touching her shoulders. The wire-framed glasses were gone and a nose ring had taken their place. _Interesting_. She was leaned back in the chair, playing on her phone. There was a jean jacket and purse hanging off the back of the chair, and she wore green sundress and Birkenstocks.

 

_Margaery fucking Tyrell._

 

XxXxX

 

“Dad, we can’t leave! I’ve got a civics test on Monday… I’ve got friends to say good bye to,” she explained. _Well, just one friend_. “I can’t just up and vanish. Maggy is my best friend here, what’s she going to think?”

 

“I’ve already called the secretary and told her that we had to move back, and I’m sure it won’t be a problem to get you re-enrolled at Mordane’s once we get home,” he said, sitting down next to her and pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I knew this deal was falling through for a while now, but I’d thought we would make it through the end of the school year.”

 

Her dad left her in her room in the condo they’d been renting soon after that. He’d dragged in a couple of suitcases, but didn’t say anything else. _There’s nothing he could say to make this suck any less_ , she thought.

 

Sansa had never fallen for someone like she had for Maggy. She’d only had one girlfriend before, if you could really call that a girlfriend. It was more like a summer fling, and she knew it from the start. There were only so many months to summer vacation, and she thanked the gods she was able to spend it in the Eyrie with Mya Stone, her addiction for that summer. _That’s probably why I seemed so… aggressive with Maggy, even though I’m still a timid little mouse compared to Mya_.

 

It had taken her a couple of weeks to feel her out, figure out if Margaery played for the same team, so to speak. There was nothing that Sansa wanted less than another Lyanna Mormont incident. But she never mentioned a boyfriend, and for all of their conversations about their favorite musicians or actors, she never described any of them as ‘hot’ or said she was attracted to them. _Well, she didn’t describe the female ones that way either_ , Sansa recalled, smiling, but that was probably out of shyness. _Sweet heaven, she was like the Maiden herself come to life._

 

XxXxX

 

“…Maggy?” Sansa asked. “Is that you?”

 

Margaery raised her head once she heard her, and Sansa instantly knew it was her. She stood up from her chair, nodding her affirmation. She reached out to hug Sansa, who let her, but broke it off shortly and sat down.

 

“How on earth did you find me?” she asked, as she pushed off her light jacket and let it hang on the back of the chair. “Better yet, how’d you find Arya?”

 

“Arya didn’t exactly find me. She’s dating my roommate.”

 

“Ah, the illusive Gendry. I’ve yet to actually meet him.”

 

“Yea. I didn’t know you two were related until last night,” she explained. “Until I saw a rather interesting photo of you in Wild Westeros.”

 

“Oh, gods,” she laughed. “That’s hilarious. That was the beach shot, right?” Margaery nodded. “Never actually sit on the beach naked, it’s the worst. I think I took about four showers before I got all the sand off me.”

 

A well-dressed waiter walked up to take their orders, both of them clamping their mouths tightly shut so that he wouldn’t hear their conversation.

 

“So you don’t care that I saw your photos?” Margaery asked after the waiter had left.

 

“Do you mean am I embarrassed that there’s men of all ages out there that are probably using me as their masturbation fantasy material this month?” Sansa countered. “I’m sure my parents and Robb are not that pleased, but I’ve got to pay for school some way. Jon would be too flustered to say anything, and Arya just laughs and sends me texts about my nipples. I do other work too, some posing for the art school drawing classes, and I work as a clothing model for a friend who owns a vintage resale shop over on Third. But no, I’m not upset you saw the pictures. Maybe a bit curious about your taste in reading material, but not upset. And besides,” Sansa added, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

 

XxXxX

 

Homecoming. Back parking lot, the backseat of that godsdamned BMW. Sansa was well aware that Mace Tyrell had absolutely no clue what his daughter and her new best friend got up to in that backseat, and somehow it made it that much more exciting. All that mattered was that his daughter was a responsible young lady who passed her driving test with flying colors, so the car was all hers whenever she wanted it.

 

“Sometimes I really wish Daddy had bought the 7-series instead,” Margaery remarked once. “There’d be so much more room back here.”

 

They certainly figured out how to make due. Sansa is in the middle of the backseat, sprawled out obscenely across the seat, ignoring the way the seatbelt buckle in digging into her thigh, her panties long forgotten about, discarded somewhere on the floor, and she’s got the skirt of her dress hiked up to her waist. She’s coaxing Maggy with delicate words and directions, breathy moans, and “yes, right there, sweet girl, just like that.” It’s getting close to being too much to take, when Maggy’s unlearned yet eager, somewhat nervous fingers are filling her, and her thumb is drawing circles on her clit. Maggy hasn’t used her mouth on her yet, _maybe next time_ , but it’s when Sansa remembers that this is her first time, she’s never done this to anyone before, and _oh gods, this is how she gets herself off_ , that she comes all over Margaery’s hands.

 

She’s still coming down from that high, legs a bit limp, completely breathless, residual little aftershocks from her orgasm still echoing through her, when she see Maggy bringing her hand to her mouth, cleaning Sansa’s juices off her fingers like it’s nothing. Like it’s not some hugely intimate sexual act, like it’s what she’s supposed to do, instead of wiping it off on her tights or the interior fabric of the car. It’s the hedonistic look of self-indulgence on her face as she licks every last drop off her fingers that makes Sansa push herself off the backseat, swiftly pulling Maggy to straddle her lap, who lets out a loud groan, instinctively grinding down into Sansa.

 

“Patience, love, patience,” Sansa whispers, one hand on her girlfriend’s right hip, the other softly stroking her face and pushing her hair back into place. “We’ve got a dance to get to.”

 

“Do we have to?”

 

Sansa smiles, nodding her head, then leans forwards and kisses her quickly, still able to taste herself on Margaery’s lips. “Yes, we do. But don’t worry. I’ve got plenty ideas of what we can do afterwards, especially after you made me come like that just now.”

 

XxXxX

 

Their food arrived a few minutes later, pancakes for Margaery, eggs benedict for Sansa, and while they ate in silence for a few minutes, it wasn’t comfortable.

 

“This is awkward, isn’t it?” Sansa said. She couldn’t stand this anymore. “Fine, I’ll go first. I missed the crap out of you. It’s crazy that you’re here after so long, right in front of me, but it’s good. Really good, actually.”

 

“Do you wanna get outta here?” The words left Margaery’s mouth before she realized she’d said them.

 

“Gods, yes.”

 

They both left twenties on the table next to half-eaten plates of food, grabbed their jackets and hurried out. There was still a crowd of waiting customers outside of the restaurant as they made their way outside.

 

“So, now that it’s only eleven in the morning and we’ve had half a breakfast, what should we do?” Sansa asked once they were outside. Margaery had been first through the doors, and she followed her to the left.

 

“Coffee?” Margaery suggested. “That’s the best idea I’ve got.”

 

“Indigo Star? There’s on pretty close to here.”

 

“You go there too? The one on 5th?” Sansa nodded. “I don’t know how I haven’t seen you. I’m there so much I should pay them rent instead of my landlord.”

 

“It’s close to my classes and the hospital. I’ve got weird hours sometimes and overnight shifts a lot, so I’m usually there early in the morning.”

 

The coffee shop was only three blocks down from the restaurant, which was why Sansa suggested it, but once they got inside the front door Margaery stopped dead in her tracks.

 

“Oh, for fucks sake,” she muttered under her breath as they walked inside, but Sansa was close enough to hear her. “Can we go someplace else? I’m sure there’s like five Starbucks within a half mile. We’d have our pick.”

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Jeyne was there. The same Jeyne from yesterday, who dumped her, who said she moved too quickly. She was there, sitting at a small table with a cappuccino and muffin, clacking away on her laptop, and they’d have to walk right past her table to get to the cashier.

 

Margaery shook her head. “You don’t wanna know. It’s stupid.”

 

“No, standing in the doorway debating whether to get coffee is stupid. Just tell me.”

 

Margaery sighed. “That girl over there, the blonde one wearing the blue button down?” Sansa raised her eyebrows when she noticed her. “Well, she broke up with me… here. Yesterday.”

 

“She broke up with you? She’s clearly not right in the head. Now come on, I’m still hungry.” Her hand found Margaery’s back, just lightly, and helped move her into the coffee and to the cashier.

 

They sat down after ordering, and the barista who had recognized both of them brought their drinks and pastries over to their table.

 

“I can’t believe that after eight years you’re in front of me again. I feel like I need a crash course on the current Sansa,” Margaery said.

 

After that, the conversation flowed, each catching the other up on the past eight years. Sansa was relieved for the chance to finally explain why she had disappeared out of the blue. She talked about the rest of high school, spent at her prep school in Winterfell, her father’s heart attack and how the care she saw him receive during the couple weeks he stayed in the hospital made her decide she wanted to go to medical school. Margaery had finished out her remaining years of high school at the same school, then stayed in the city for university. She met Gendry her freshman year playing intramural ultimate Frisbee and they’d been inseparable since, gradually getting nicer apartments once they graduated. Margaery had graduated with a plant biology degree and started to work in a lab downtown. This coffee shop was her usual stop after work most days for a latte with her brother Loras, or grabbing quick cups of coffee to help tide her and her coworkers over through double shifts.

 

By the time Sansa’s phone alarm buzzed at one-thirty, they’d both had more coffee, a shared chocolate croissant, and found out even more about what each other was now interested in – movies, music, books, the anchor on CNN they both found attractive. They didn’t everything in common, but they hadn’t eight years ago either.

 

“Crap,” Sansa said, quickly picking up her phone and turning off the alarm. “I promised a friend from school that I’d pick up the back half of his shift at the hospital clinic this afternoon. I hadn’t bothered to cancel when Arya asked about this date, since I honestly didn’t think it’d go this well.”

 

“Makes sense. I least I knew who I was meeting with today,” Margaery said. They gathered their things and put their plates up at the counter. “Meeting like this really was all Arya’s idea. I’d have been fine with her inviting you over for dinner and then I just happened to be there.”

 

“She’s a little more over-the-top than that. You know this reservation was under the name ‘Miss Mystery’?” Margaery just rolled her eyes, groaning in reply, and Sansa couldn’t help but smile when she saw that they both had the same reactions to Arya’s shenanigans.

 

As they left the coffee shop, they realized they’d both parked their cars in the same structure around the corner, Sansa on the third floor and Margaery on the fourth.

 

“So, since you said that girl that was in Indigo just broke up with you yesterday, am I right to assume you’re still single?” Sansa asked. They’d mostly talked about what Sansa’s shifts at the hospital were like on the short walk over to the structure, then Margaery offered to walk her to her car once they got up to the third floor.

 

“Yea, ya know, I thought I had pretty good game but I haven’t managed to find a new girlfriend in the last 16 hours,” Margaery replied. “I didn’t hear you mention anyone special though.”

 

“There isn’t anyone. Not for a while. I mean, I have friends and we go out for drinks after school sometimes… and my mom still tries to set me up with guys every time I’m home… but since I started med school I haven’t really been on the look, so to speak. Sounds like you’ve been on the prowl a bit.”

 

“I guess. It’s hard when they all get compared to you.”

 

“You still think about me like that?”

 

“Well, I don’t have a statue of you in my closet made out of old chewing gum… but yes, of course I still think of you that way. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

 

“A Hey Arnold reference and a proclamation of your feelings? Arya was right.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“She texted me this morning to tell me to enjoy my date with my teenage dream,” Sansa explained, but noticed the funny way Margaery looked at her. “You know… Katy Perry song, Glee cover? Let you put your hands on me in my skintight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight?” The fact that the jeans she’d worn that day were skintight was not lost on Sansa.

 

“I certainly hope that was an invitation.”

 

“Forward,” Sansa remarked. They’d arrived at her car and while she’d unlocked the door with the key fob, she leaned back against the driver’s side door, making no move to actually get inside. The way she was leaning brought her down closer to Margaery’s height, who could see the smile on her face despite the fact that she was looking down at her hands, fumbling with her keychain. “Not the Maggy I remember.”

 

“I’d be more than happy to show you how forward I can be,” she replied, taking a step forward, then another, until she was firmly within Sansa’s personal space.

 

Sansa finally stopped fidgeting with her keys and looked up at Margaery. “Tonight then?” She suggested. “8:30? I’ll be back from my half-shift by then… I, um, I live alone.”

 

“You’re on.”

 

“Maggy?”

 

“You know, everyone calls me Mags now,” she said with a laugh. “Gods, It’s been years since anyone called me Maggy.”

 

“Think you could make an exception for me?” Sansa asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. _I wonder if she’s catching on to the top-notch eye-fucking I’m doing right now_ , she wondered.

 

“I would make all kinds of exceptions for you,” she replied. “Especially when you’re looking at me like you are now.” _Well, there’s my answer._

 

“And how exactly am I looking at you?”

 

Margaery didn’t answer her, not aloud at least. She cocked an eyebrow upward before leaning forward, capturing Sansa’s lips so quickly she was startled. Keys dropped to the cement and Sansa let out a bit of a giggle. It was different than before, much more experienced than the first kiss they’d shared in that Gap changing room. It was better though, filled with eight years of pent up feelings, Margaery’s hands confidently on her hips, holding her possessively against herself. It wasn’t cherry slushies, lip balm, and high school exploration as Sansa gave up any ounce of control and allowed Margaery to explore her mouth. It was the distinct taste of almond lattes and tiny, persistent jolts of lightning that shot straight between her legs and made her knees shake as Margaery sucked on her lower lip.

 

And then, just as fast as it started, Margaery pulled away, and brought her hands up to Sansa’s face, lightly pushing her hair back into place. “Just a bit of a warm-up,” she said, quickly winking then pressing one last kiss to her forehead before taking a few steps back. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

She turned and walked towards the stairwell, leaving Sansa still leaning against her car door. _How am I supposed to get through work after that?_

 

XxXxX

 

Gendry looked up from his laptop as soon as she opened the door. “That was a much longer date than I’d expected. Things go well?” He took his legs down from the coffee table and placed the laptop in the same spot.

 

“You could say that,” she answered, continuing down the hall towards her room.

 

“Come on, Mags. Give us more than that,” Arya demanded, raising her voice so she could be heard down the hallway.

 

She smirked as she walked across the hallway to the bathroom. “Fine, Arya. It was amazing. So amazing, that I’m going over to her place tonight and the sex will probably we mind-blowing, since we haven’t fucked in like eight years and –“

 

“Oh, dear gods, Mags! What the fuck is that? Earmuffs, earmuffs!” Arya yelled from the living room, loud enough the neighbors probably wondered what was happening.

 

She heard Gendry’s loud laugh from the other room and couldn’t help but smile – a smile which only grew bigger when she realized she was humming Teenage Dream.

 

 _Might as well_ , she thought, as she connected her phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the bathroom, pulled up the song on iTunes, and stepped into the shower. _I think I'll have this on repeat for quite a while._


End file.
